New Zealand's Loss
by Sapphire Jacqueline Stone
Summary: At a meeting with various towns and cities around the world, Melbourne is frankly annoyed when Christchurch doesn't show up. When she does, her reason for being late upsets everyone there. The countries are there, but it's their "children" who are the main characters. Based on very recent events. Rated T for mentions of death and 9/11.


New Zealand's Loss

**AN: I know next to nothing about this series, apart from the fact that the characters are named after countries. However, in light of what has happened here, I thought I'd write a story for this category.**

16 March, 2019- 1:55pm

Melbourne glanced around the meeting room. Beside her was her friend Sydney, wearing her kangaroo brown dress as she normally did at these meetings of the States, Provinces, and Cities of the world.

On one side of the Australian cities, was Hobart, whom they disliked with a passion, and on the other side, was Auckland and Wellington. They were normally accompanied by their sister, Christchurch, but so far, there was no sign of her.

"Figures one of your lot would be late, New Zealand," Australia snarked.

New Zealand and her daughter, South, glared at her.

"Shut it, Aussie," snapped New Zealand. The others just rolled their eyes. They were used to the banter between Australia and New Zealand; they were often arguing about something.

What did it matter if a biscuit or a pudding belonged to a certain country? ANZAC bisciuts belonged to them both, and the Pavlova belonged to them both, as well.

"Honestly, guys. First it's food, now it's Christchurch being late. Just build a bridge, and for God's Sake, GET OVER IT!" Yelled Los Angeles.

Just then, before anymore arguing could occur, Christchurch arrived. She looked grumpy, and there were stains on her outfit.

"Hurrah, we're _all _here. Now, I can begin," Melbourne sneered at her. "Honestly, couldn't you be bothered to wear something clean, Christchurch?"

Christchurch glared back. "Shut up. I haven't got time for your banter today."

Her outburst was enough to startle them all. Normally, Christchurch was cheerful enough, apart from her big earthquakes, especially the one that killed over one hundred and eighty of her people.

"Coffee?" South asked.

"No," she said, and her eyes welled up with tears. She then placed her head in her hands, leaned down onto the desk, and burst into tears.

Instantly, everybody, including Melbourne, made their way to their crying comrade, and those close by, rubbed her back.

"Please tell us what's wrong," Rarotonga said gently, rubbing her friend's back.

"Two of my Mosques have been attacked. A mad gunman, from Australia, has gone into two of my Mosques, and has killed fifty of my people," she sobbed. Melbourne froze. She now realised what the stains on Christchurch's outfit were. They were stains from the blood that had been spilt in her streets, and she felt awful for what she'd said.

"I'm sorry for having a go at you," she said. Christchurch nodded.

"What's a Mosque?" someone asked.

"A Muslim church," Melbourne responded.

"This is even worse than what happened to you, New York, in 2001," Wellington said, working out some calculations.

"How is that worse? 2000 people died in 9/11."

"Yes, but statistically, 50 people killed in New Zealand is the equivalent of 3,381 people getting killed in the States. That's a boatload of people," said Wellington.

New York nodded her understanding, as Belfast and Dublin, the Irish Girls, came over with a pint of whiskey each.

"What can we do to help?" Slurred Dublin, drunkenly wrapping an arm around their friend.

"Sober up." Said Auckland.

The others laughed at that, and even Christchurch managed a weak smile.

"Pray. Send messages of hope, love, and support. Send funds if you can. Do whatever you can to help," Christchurch said, before standing up. "I'm sorry, guys, but I'm not up for a meeting." She left without another word, crying.

As she walked along, feeling the pain, loss, and sorrow of her people, tears streamed down her checks.

Blood stained her roads as bodies pilled up, and several others were taken to hospital.

Suddenly, she became aware of two throats being cleared from behind. She turned, and gasped. For there was the Mulim god, and the Christian God.

The Muslim god smiled at her and told her something she didn't understand.

"Don't be disheartened. They are safe, and in paradise," God told her, and she smiled.

"So, despite everything, and the fear that my people have, there's hope?" She asked.

God nodded. "Yes, there is always hope, my child."

Christchurch smiled again. In spite of everything, all the fear, and anguish, there was hope.

**AN: To the Muslim community of Christchurch, my heart and prayers are with you all in this terrible time. To the world leaders and celebrities, thank you for your kind messages. KIA KAHA (Stay strong)**


End file.
